Things are not off to a good start. It’s a bright and sunny Saturday morning, and I’ve just arrived at Jewell Towne Vineyards in South Hampton to witness the yearly grape harvest.  I’m greeted by owner and part-time emergency room physician Dr. Peter Oldak, who’s busy directing a small fleet of volunteers harvesting the Seyval grape, a white variety that’s one of about 25 that Oldak grows on his five-acre vineyard. Within minutes, he invites me to taste one of the plump, green orbs. It’s juicy and sweet, but something about the mouthfeel—the way the inner flesh pops out of the slightly thick skin—reminds me of a Concord grape, and I make the mistake of voicing this thought.

“No,” Oldak corrects me. “These are not like Concord grapes.”

Feeling foolish, I try to stammer a reply. “No, er, I just mean, ya know, they’re not like regular grapes, from, like, the grocery store....”

“Well, these are not regular grapes,” Oldak points out, “These are wine grapes.”

It occurs to me that a busy winemaker in the midst of one of the biggest harvest days of the season might not have much patience for my less than astute observations, so I wander off to mingle amongst the harvesters.

Oldak’s wine-making career started back in 1982 with the planting of six grape vines. He and wife Brenda were already avid home gardeners, having successfully planted plenty of vegetables, flowers and fruit trees on the property. After four years of cultivating the vines, Oldak took the next step and transformed the fruits of his labor into wine and from there, things took off. Over the next seven years, Oldak planted as many as 60 varieties of grapes, experimenting to see which would grow best in the region. Eventually, he narrowed his focus to 20 or so varieties, and he continued to do extensive research to hone his winemaking skills.

In 1992, one of Oldak’s wines, the South Hampton White, garnered a gold medal at the American Wine Society’s National competition, and in 1994, the decision was made to go commercial. An initial harvest of 40 cases sold out in three weeks, and now a yearly harvest of over 2,500 cases sells in 60 stores, restaurants and farmers’ markets in New Hampshire and Massachusetts, including the Portsmouth Farmers’ Market. In spite of its growth, the vineyard is still a family-run operation, with artist Brenda and children Tenley and Trevor helping out with every aspect of the business.

Out in the vineyard, the dozen or so harvesters are snipping clusters of grapes from the vines. “This is the cheapest form of therapy,” says volunteer Paul Fenner, who has been coming to help with the harvest for seven years. A California native, Fenner says he was pleasantly surprised to find a vineyard when he moved to the area, and a curiosity-driven visit to the winery led to an invitation to join in the harvest. Other volunteers express a similar fondness for the task at hand.

“Brenda and Peter are great people, and Peter is just a great teacher,” says Barbara Zulkiewicz, who has been coming to help with the harvest for six years. Also, she says it’s nice to participate and to later have the opportunity to see the results. “I just had a big birthday,” she says, “and all of the wines were from Jewell Towne, and it was fun to have been part of the process.” Brenda is harvesting too, chatting and laughing with the volunteers, two of whom are friends from her childhood.

The harvesters sit on overturned buckets, filling yellow crates the size of recycle bins. As each section is cleaned, they move down the row until it is completely snipped of clusters.  Throughout the morning, filled crates are loaded onto a tractor-driven wagon and taken to the winery, where vineyard manager Derek Brock and marketing director Colin Fox are manning the crushing and juicing operation. 

The grapes are dumped into an augered crushing machine, which spits out stems as it churns the grapes into a sludgy mush. A giant sucking machine then pumps the sludgy mush into a mesh-lined barrel and a cloudy green liquid emerges, which is pumped into a giant stainless steel tank.

At the end of the day, Oldak and his crew will have successfully harvested, crushed and juiced some 3,000 pounds of Seyval grapes. The resulting 250 gallons of liquid will be left to settle for a day or two, after which a yeast culture will be introduced to begin the fermentation process. After a few weeks of fermentation, the wine will be transferred to a new, clean tank. This process will be repeated several times over the ensuing months, and with each transfer the wine will become more and more clear. Finally, sometime in March or April, when Dr. Oldak and Brock determine that the wine has reached maturity, it will be bottled and shipped. Today’s yield represents only a fraction of the year’s production, and I’m awed by the prospect that Dr. Oldak will repeat this intense process of harvesting and monitoring with over 20 varieties of grapes.

After the harvest, the volunteers gather in the post-and-beam barn—an 18th century New England-style reproduction that houses the retail shop and tasting room—to partake in a communal meal and to indulge in some extensive wine tasting. I sample the 2004 Seyval and resist the urge to pretend like I think it tastes like grape juice, which it definitely does not, and which I suspect Dr. Oldak would not find very amusing. The wine is full bodied and well balanced, living up to the Seyval’s repuation of crisp acidity and ripe fruit. I walk away from the vineyard and take a final look over my shoulder.  The manicured rows of vines stretch out in an elegant landscape. I may not be in Tuscany, or even Napa, but this definitely feels like wine country.